<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Unrequited(?) by sour_rose61</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24142372">Unrequited(?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sour_rose61/pseuds/sour_rose61'>sour_rose61</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rang De Basanti | Paint It Saffron (2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, honestly they all just need a hug, i’m writing this cause i had a dream about it, no one will read this for sure lol, sleep deprived, someone is gay as hell, wrote this instead of sleeping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:20:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24142372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sour_rose61/pseuds/sour_rose61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This was some kinda weird dream I had and honestly I added things to it and thought why the hell not.  This movie legit changed my life and please don’t judge my writing, I’m not very good at writing to be honest I just felt like I should write this. Enjoy ( it’s not gonna be that good )</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Karan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I will edit/add to it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ajay and Sonia are engaged.<br/>
Karan was happy for them, he really was. He found it funny how Ajay looked at him questioningly as though asking for permission.   He found it funny how Ajay thought Karan was madly in love with his girlfriend and oh god how he felt for the boy. Oh boy was Ajay wrong. Every time the pilot looked at him with an apology written all over his face Karan felt like grabbing him by the collar of that sexy leather jacket and yelling at him that he loves him not Sonia (well he did love her just not in that way) but that’s exactly why he kept his quite, he loved Ajay and only wanted him to be happy and correcting his assumptions would not lead to anything but a lifetime of awkwardness. As Ajay slipped the ring onto Sonia’s finger his smile grew and grew causing Karan’s heart to swell up in his chest. Seeing Ajay so happy was all he ever needed. His heart clenched and the guilt of sadness settled in the pit of his stomach, a wistful smile on his face as he joins his friends in teasing a crying Sonia. That night he went to bed drunk yet sober, feeling somewhat defeated on a tear soaked pillow, the same guilt rising and tearing him down.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aslam.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>another boy just hopelessly in love.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aslam stared intently at Laxman who was chewing on his bottom lip trying to get into character, it had some sort of weird effect on him. He just couldn’t stop staring, that was until Dj’s loud laugh snapped him out of his trance. Aslam felt different, it was inexpiable. He never hated Laxman, never wanted to fight Laxman all he wanted was for Laxman to leave him the hell alone but now a sudden yearning to be around the man rose in him. Most days spent with him went a little like this one, he couldn’t stop staring at Laxman and Laxman did everything in his power to avoid the tall boy. It hurt Aslam but he would never admit that to another being.  The shayar (poet) in him came to life more often these days and he wrote better than ever before, something about his poems felt more raw and real. He would write everything he felt with one particular person in mind and a cup of chai in his left hand. He knew it was wrong, he had been told it was wrong to feel what he was feeling for another man but it didn’t feel wrong.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm also very confused with where this is going but here,<br/>i low key wanna make this an aslam/karan fic <br/>what should i do?? leave suggestions please</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Library</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bibliophiles and chai</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Karan sunk into the chair of the college canteen and kicked his legs up onto the table, his fingers caressing the pages of Ray Bradubury’s ‘Fahrenheit 451’ as he immersed himself further into the book.<br/>
“Karan ‘badass’ Singhania ke haath mein kitaab? Am i dreaming?”  Karan jumped, startled by Aslam's voice.<br/>
(A book in Karan ‘badass’ Singhania’s hand?)</p><p>“Are you a closet nerd?” Aslam’s fake gasps cause Karan to go as red as a tomato from embarrassment as he scrambled to shove the book into his bag.  </p><p>“Shut up” Karan mumbled, “tum yaha inta subha kya kar rahe ho?”</p><p>(What are you doing here so early in the morning?)</p><p>“I could ask you the same thing,” he raised an eyebrow, then sighed and added “neend nahi aayi aur ghar baithe bore ho raha tha. Socha tha ke yaha aake thoda chai ke saath yeh shaayari bhi finish kalru”<br/>
(I couldn't sleep and got bored just sitting around the house. I thought i could get some tea and finish off a poem) </p><p>After downing three cups of chai in ten minutes and talking absolute nonsense Aslam rises from his seat and extends his hand out to Karan gesturing for him to take it.</p><p>“Chalo Karan”<br/>
(Let’s go Karan)</p><p>“Kahan?”<br/>
(Where to?)</p><p>“Library” Aslam almost whispered the word. Karan looked surprised to say the least, he looked as though he was going through an existential crisis to put it in better words.</p><p>“Dekh yaar, ab saat baje hain dho ghante tak koi aanwale nahin hain. Let’s go read, mein tumhe apni favourite shayari sunata hoon aur tu mujhe apni favourite books dikhana. Chalo na Karan please mere liye!”</p><p>(Look man, it’s seven am right now and no one will show up for another two hours. Lets go read. I'll read my favourite poems to you and you can show me your favourite books. Let’s go Karan please for me!)</p><p>Playfully rolling his eyes, Karan accepted his defeat and hesitantly placed his hand in Aslam’s.<br/>
They barely stepped into the library before Karan found himself being dragged to the poetry section. They tiptoed around the shelves until Aslam finally came to a halt and gently pulled out a book from the topmost shelf.</p><p>“Ae soz e ishq tu ne mujhe kya bana diya</p><p>(O love, what have you made me)</p><p>meri har ek saans  munajat ho gayi</p><p>(every breath I take will be a prayer)</p><p>Firaq Gorakhpuri”</p><p>Aslam read that poem and something in Karan changed, he ignored it. </p><p>“My turn” Karan turned on his heels leading Aslam into a corner of the library.<br/>
“Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ you know when I was reading-” Karan continued to ramble on about the book and why he loved it. Aslam couldn’t help but notice the glint in his eye, something he’d never seen in Karan before or maybe he wasn’t paying enough attention to notice. He was like a child showing his friends his favourite toy.<br/>
They grabbed a few books each and found a comfy spot on the floor in the corner of the library hidden away from the rest of the world and entering exciting, new, better ones with their knees brought up to their chests, arms touching and backs pressed up against the wall behind them. They sat there taking turns watching the other glow with passion as they recited passages and flew to different dimensions and eras with a few simple words. Time was flying way too fast. It wasn’t until the billionth time that Aslam’s phone vibrated in his bag breaking their little bubble that they two bibliophiles realised they were an hour and a half late for rehearsals.</p><p>“Sue hume marne wali hain"<br/>
(Sue is going to kill us) Aslam managed to get out between harsh pants on his way down the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>They stumbled into rehearsals ripping their hands out of the other’s grasp and mumbling apologies for their tardiness and something about traffic.<br/>
Aslam felt special and happy that he was getting the chance to know a part of Karan he hid away. Their stolen glances, flushed cheeks and discreet half smiles went unnoticed, or so they hoped.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm a coffee person.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. “First” Kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Karan reminisces.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was well past midnight when Karan’s jeep came to halt two streets away from Aslam’s house. Karan was sure to drop him after everyone else so they could continue their ongoing argument on who the greatest poet is. Aslam’s laughter faded as the car stopped and the sudden change in his manner didn’t go unnoticed.</p><p>“Kya hua?” (what happened?) Karan’s voice was filled with genuine concern.</p><p>“Kuch nahi yaar, bas phir se wohi same hindu muslim lecture suna padega,” (nothing man, just don’t feel like listening to the same hindu muslim lecture) he sighed, getting out of the car.</p><p>“Bahar chale?” (Let’s go out?) Karan asked rather hesitantly. “Dad is at home and I’m also not in the mood for a lecture about America and not being poor or whatever.” Aslam’s only response was to eagerly jump back into the car.</p><p>They drove around for an hour or so before stopping at a deserted park. The place seemed familiar to Karan but neither of them could figure out where the hell they were. Despite that they sat on the hood of the car and sang along to old bollywood songs sipping on chilled diet cokes and obviously a lit cigarette in Karan’s hand.</p><p>Maybe it was the blooming orchids nearby or the warm wind that brought everything back to Karan who made a mental note to slap himself in privacy because how on earth could he forget this place.</p><p>
  <em> It was their first year in college and the year was close to ending, the boys were already inseparable and they had just met Sonia and were still in the process of warming up to her. DJ, Sukhi and Sonia had all returned back home to spend time with their families and Aslam was out of town attending his cousin’s nikah (wedding) leaving a scrawny little Karan all alone. That was until Ajay came to the rescue, he wasn’t like the other seniors he was cool and didn’t mind hanging out with them. Ajay and Karan really connected through their love for jackets and south indian music. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a hot summer afternoon and the two boys were seated under a large oak tree in the deserted park debating a rather serious topic, who “rocked” extravagant outfits better Freddie Mercury or Prince but obviously either would be a second to Elvis.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Mujhe tum samajh mein nahi aate ho Karan” (I don’t understand you Karan) Karan just shrugged and half heartedly chuckled in response. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“College ki adhee ladkiyaan tere peeche hai, juniors aur seniors bhi! Par tu kisi ko bhi bau nahi deta, kyun?” (“half the girls in college are behind you [want you] juniors and seniors too! But you don’t pay attention to any of them, why?”) </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not interested I guess” Karan’s gaze shifted to his fingers and stayed there as he twirled them around out of discomfort. Well God seemed to be on Karan’s side today, before Ajay could question him more about his love life or lack thereof Ajay’s favourite song ‘Ennavale Adi Ennavale’ started to play and he demanded they sing along.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> The sun was setting and a cool breeze was taking over and the boys swapped their sodas for beers. Ajay wasn’t much of a drinker but he had a beer or two every once in a while. “I’ve only kissed one girl” Ajay’s confession was out of the blue and took Karan by surprise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve never kissed a girl, I think I win this round of ‘whose love life is less existent’” they broke into a fit of laughter, heads thrown back and eyes closed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What about boys? Have you ever kissed a guy?” Karan froze when he heard those words. ‘Oh shit does he know about Vikrant from tenth?’ ‘Did someone else tell him?’ ‘Do I give gay vibes?’ ‘Did I say something when I was drunk?’and a million other similar thoughts ran through his mind desperately trying to find an answer or explanation. He was so lost in the whirlpool of his thoughts he didn’t notice Ajay’s face inching closer and closer to his. It wasn’t until soft lips were placed against his slightly chapped ones, his body froze in place he wanted to kiss back but his body wouldn’t let him move so he did the one thing he could, he closed his eyes hoping the other boy would take it as a sign of approval. It was a short kiss, far too short for either of their likings and when Ajay pulled back Karan managed to gain just enough strength to pull him back in for another kiss. This time it was more passionate and there was no hesitation. Karan’s hands cupped Ajay’s face, thumb caressing his cheekbone, Ajay’s hands snaked their way around Karan’s waist pulling him closer and holding him tighter, both boys completely melted into the kiss forgetting all their woes, wishing this moment would last forever. Butterflies churned in the pits of their stomach as they pulled apart a little out of breath, Karan averted his gaze to the trees around them and Ajay just chuckled at the other boy and wrapped his arm around Karan’s shoulder. “Good singer and a good kisser” his smirk made Karan melt a little bit more. Karan kept telling himself not to fall, he kept telling himself that Ajay was probably just another college guy wanting to experiment but the warmth and adoration in Ajay’s eyes conveyed a whole different story, one of affection and longing. Maybe eyes are the window to the soul. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They left the park on Ajay’s bike, Karan’s forehead resting on his shoulder and fingertips tracing patterns onto his leather clad back. Karen’s dad was out of town as usual so they spent the night at his house, in his room and for the first time since his mum passed away he didn’t feel so alone and suffocated in this house. Ajay’s eyes refused to stop watching Karan and the younger boy's flushed cheeks and inability to look Ajay in the eye only made him more irresistible. Not a lot was said that night, but both boys had a surge of emotions running through them, drunk on beer and passion, their senses heightened, each touch lingering and for those following days and nights spent alone the whole world disappeared.</em>
</p><p>“Earth to Karan!” Aslam waved his hand in front of Karan’s face, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Sorry” he lit another cigarette and they sat in silence for a few more moments before continuing their conversation on absolutely nothing in particular.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don’t know what’s happening anymore.What do y’all think? Sorry this took so long! Any suggestions for the next chap?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Group Discussions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang talks about their fist love.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Karan watched as another plane flew by, he tuned his friends out and focused on the clouds moving across the sky, painting their invisible illustrations, a cigarette lit in his right hand. His thoughts ran deep and for a few seconds he forgot his friends were physically present with him, he smiled at an almost forgotten memory and lit another cigarette feeling Ajay’s disapproving glare burn holes into the side of his face. Karan breathed in, his eyes fell closed behind his dark sunglasses and once again was lost in a deep void.<br/>“Oye!” Dj yelled as he smacked Karan out of his thoughts and howls of laughter filled the place as Karan rubbed his head. <br/>“What?” he asked, lighting up yet another cigarette receiving disapproving looks from Ajay and Aslam this time.<br/>“Do you believe in love, true love? Aslam is surprisingly a non-believer” Sonia’s question made Karan uncomfortable, an inexplicable tension set in the air that only he could sense. He turns to Aslam with a fake shocked face, he obviously knew Aslam’s real, “extended” answer, they had talked about this a few nights ago.  <br/>“Mujhe laga har shayar ek die-hard romantic hain, Aslam what is this? Are you not a real poet?” (I thought every poet is a die-hard romantic, Aslam what is this? Are you not a real poet?) Karan’s teasing only led to a newspaper being thrown his way as the others laughed but Sukhi could’ve sworn he saw a flash of jealousy in Ajay’s eyes as Karan teasingly winked at the blushing poet.<br/>“I for one feel like love is duniya ki sabse khubsurat cheez hai! It’s truly beautiful, having someone by your side who accepts you and loves you for who you are” (I for one feel like love is the most beautiful thing in this world.) Sue's eyes were glued on Dj as she voiced her opinion. <br/>“I agree” Ajay stated, wrapping his arm around Sonia and pulling her closer and placing a kiss on her cheek. “That’s because both of your love stories worked out, you’re one of the few lucky ones” Sukhi explained. Karan, Aslam and even Laxman nodded in agreement. <br/>“It’s beautiful when it works out,” Laxman added. “par dil bas ek baar sachi toot gaya na toh zindagi guzar jaati hai ‘fix’ karne ki ya bhool ne koshish mein,” (It’s beautiful when it works out but if your heart truly breaks just once your whole life passes by trying to fix it or in attempts to forget it,) he sighed. <br/>“Tera dil kis ne toda Pandey?” (Who broke your heart, Pandey?) Sukhi asked with a small chuckle. Laxman just rolled his eyes, a ‘tsk’ slipped through his lips signalling it wasn’t worth going into. <br/>“Oh! Tell me your first love stories!” Sue suggested.<br/>“I’ll go first. Uska naam Micheal tha. Hum ek hi high school mein the and we had the same classes too. Very sweet and tall, he had blonde hair and big brown eyes. He was on the basketball team. Hum do saal ke liye saath mein the. Then we went our separate ways for university,” (I’ll go first. His name was Micheal. We went to the same high school and we had the same classes. Very sweet and tall, he had blonde hair and big brown eyes. He was on the basketball team. We were together for three years. Then we went our separate ways for university.) Sue’s story was short and she didn’t really seem like she was into this Micheal at all let alone in love with him. <br/>“Okay my turn,” Sonia took a moment to think. “His name was Kunal aur woh mera neighbour, then he moved to America or Australia I don't remember!” (His name was Kunal and he was my neighbour, then he moved to America or Australia, I don't remember!) she giggled slightly. Dj and Sukhi went on to talk about their first loves who unsurprisingly turned out to be their teachers from the seventh standard. Ajay teased them and the girls were disgusted. <br/>“What about you Aslam?” Sue turned to him and leaned back into Dj’s arms. Aslam shrugged.<br/>“My first and only love is and always will be poetry” Sue and Laxman laughed as everyone else rolled their eyes muttering about how cheesy that statement was and throwing snarky comments his way. Karan realised that most of his friends just brushed off their first love and just moved past it, he looked down at the smooth curb bracelet on his wrist and started to play with it. It was at this moment Karan realised he was a lover, Karan Singhania, a textbook bad boy is a fucking lover. The letter engraved into the bracelet brought back so many memories, a letter, more specifically ‘V’ overwhelmed him with emotion and here he was, being prompted to talk about it as though it was just a passing fling. He looked up to see all eyes on him, some furrowed eyebrows staring at him as though he just said something worrisome. Karan shrugged.<br/>“Never been in love” he muttered, barely audible and his eyes shifted to the rocky ground beneath him. He could sense the jaws dropping around him, their reactions were laughable. <br/>“What? You’re joking!” Sonia exclaimed. Karan just smiled and shook his head no. He was sure Ajay could see right through him to the fingers crossed behind his back as he blatantly lied to his friends. Ajay, unfortunately, does not have x-ray vision. Ajay felt his heart shatter. If Karan had taken off his sunglasses he’d have been able to see the effect he had on the pilot.<br/>“Pandey! Tera turn!” Sukhi shuffled to face the man standing slightly off to the side in a soft lilac kurta. He shook his head no. The group immediately began to nag him, shouting incoherent sentences at him all at once.<br/>“Tha koi,” (There was someone) he tried to brush it off and end the conversation. <br/>“C’mon Laxman, thoda sa elaborate karo!” (C’mon Laxman, elaborate a little bit) Sonia encouraged and insisted he go on.<br/>“Haan Laxman bolo na.” (Yeah Laxman, go on.) Aslam leaned slightly forward and smirked at him. Laxman sighed, realising there would be no way he could get out of this one.<br/>“Naam tha Grace. Christians the aur hum Hindus, uske parents maane nahi. Kush?” (Name was Grace. They were Christians, we are Hindus, her parents weren’t okay with it. Happy now?) Laxman asked, raising an eyebrow. Sukhi nodded his head but ensured that everyone knew he was only half satisfied with that answer, everyone laughed at his childish behaviour. Karan on the other hand, laughed at the glint in Laxman’s eyes, it was one he would often see in his own when he accidentally caught his reflection in his glass windowpane, the light from his soft hazel coloured ceramic lamp illuminating the area around his desk as he picked up his pen in the dead of the night and wrote of the more beautiful moments in his life. They weren’t immaculate, beautiful pieces of poetry like Aslam’s writing was, they were simple recounts, twisted with the fantasy endings Karan had always hoped for but never lucky enough to be bestowed with. Those stories were for Karan, and Karan only. His little secret.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi. I am T I R E D.<br/>I don't really like how I wrote this but here it is.:)<br/>Thank you for reading! I hope you're all washing your hands, wearing a mask and just being careful in general. Okay ly!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Unclear Feelings & Dosas For Breakfast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Karan shrugged. “Never been in love” he muttered, barely audible and his eyes shifted to the rocky ground beneath him. He could sense the jaws dropping around him, their reactions were laughable.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ajay whipped his head around so fast his neck almost snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘He’s never been in love. Never’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ajay thought as his eyes dropped to the ground. An uncomfortably familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, something one would describe as a mixture of fear, sadness and possibly a hint of anger. His mind pondered over the words as he tried to shake off the nasty feeling and focus on Laxman’s words as they flew past him. Then the realization hit him, he's next.</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘Fuck.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ajay knew he couldn’t talk about his actual first love nor could he lie to his friends, he’s too readable for that. A distraction was what he needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know there is more to this story! Don’t worry Pandey ek na ek din mein figure out kar lunga” (I know there is more to this story! Don’t worry Pandey I’ll figure it out one day or another,) Sukhi exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Figure out baad mein kar lena, ab toh chalte hain. It’s getting late” (You can figure it out later, let’s go now. It’s getting late)  Ajay jokes, hoping he created a good enough diversion. The nods of agreement caused an internal wave of relief for Ajay. He chuckled as the others ran circles around him sporting goofy smiles and racing to the car, all except Laxman and Karan of course.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan sauntered towards the car while using his hands to light yet another cigarette while Laxman awkwardly strolled behind them, taking the last available seat in the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Those goddamn cigarettes’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Internally sighing, Ajay hopped onto his bike and led the car to the nearest bar. Ajay avoided Karan, a change that went unnoticed for the night as Ajay’s heart tugged at Karan’s declaration of being inexperienced in love. Ajay knew what they had was more than a passing fling or ‘time pass’ as Dj would call it. He knew what they had was beyond their own comprehension, let alone those of who were on the outside looking in. He knew the pain of letting something go for the better when the better posed as threats that were seemingly empty until they were not. He was forced to leave Karan in the dark and watch on as he drifted further and further into it. Images of the letter he last wrote to Karan in his first year of training flashed in his mind, his biggest lie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun was rising as Ajay sat in the large armchair directly opposite the large tv. His hands trembling as his blood boiled with anger, the home minister uttered absolute garbage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flight lieutenant Shaheed Bashir was an incompetent pilot and we need to ensure that we give our future air force pilots more vigorous training with stricter coaches!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words drove Ajay over the edge as he shut the tv off and threw the remote, flinging it towards the wall. Panting as his rage took over him. His mother stopped her morning prayers to look over him with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kya hua beta?” (What happened son?) she put a hand on his shoulder as he leaned back onto the wall. He shook his head, unable to form the right words to express his anger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma, I’m going out. Mere liye wait mat karna, I might be late okay?” (Ma, I'm going out. Don't wait for me, I might be late okay?0 He grabbed his keys and ran out the door without listening to her response. She sighed, shaking her head in frustration at her son’s rush. Ajay let his hands and instinct guide his bike, shocked as he ended up at a place he hasn’t been to in a long while. The Singhania mansion, as he used to call it. He peered into the gates and cursed inwardly as a white car sits idly in the car park, men lined up like figurines next to each vehicle and at the entrance. Ajay sighs, parking his bike to the side he slowly made his way to the small alleyway on one side of the house and jumped over the fence. He tiptoes around the building to find the entrance to the kitchen, he punches in the code sighing in relief to find it hasn’t changed. He greeted the workers like old friends, as they were and slowly made his way up the staircase, hyper-aware of his surroundings. He found Karan’s room almost instantly and locked it. The small bit of anger he didn’t know was still hidden in him faded as he heard Karan’s voice coming from the bathroom, though muffled by the shower still as sweet as the first time he had heard it. Ajay smiled to the empty room as he wandered around it, analysing it as though it held some secret that he was obliged to figure out. The pictures on his cupboard caught Ajay’s eye, the shower turned off but Karan’s voice continued to pour out words, it was some old ghazal Ajay didn’t remember the name of. The door unlocked and out stepped Karan, dripping wet with only a towel hanging loosely from his waist and one in his hand rubbing his hair dry. He continued to hum, unaware of the pilot's presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t take you for a bathroom singer” Ajay smirked, leaning against the table as Karan shrieked and covered his bare body with the towel. He rolled his eyes as they landed on Ajay who was laughing hysterically. He bunched up the second towel and threw it at the laughing man. “Not funny” Karan mumbled, crossing his arms. Then suddenly panic stemmed in him as he rushed past Ajay and looked out the small window, searching frantically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did dad see you?” he asked, still in a state of panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes! Humne ek cup chai bhi pe thi, saath mein, he’s very cool!” (Oh yes! We even had a cup of tea together, he’s very cool!) Ajay chuckled at his own humour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very funny,” Karan stated sarcastically, moving to grab some clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the news, you okay?” Karan’s voice was soft and barely audible, he was treading carefully. Ajay could only nod, he didn’t have the strength to talk about it yet but he didn’t want anyone to worry. “Didn’t know him very well. I have to go to the funeral later today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ajay turned to the table and picked up the framed picture of himself, his heart fluttering slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember this day” he showed the picture to Karan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it was the day you left for your first year of training right?” Ajay nodded</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘No, it was the day I realised I was madly in love with you but was too much of a coward to admit it’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>He brushed the thought away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want to go out? Dj, Sue Laxman and Aslam took the car to show Sue around. Sonia has some college thing and Sukhi got too drunk last night as usual so it will be just us, if that’s okay?” Karan internally cringed at his own question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad’s gone, we can use the front door now” Karan chuckled. “Rehearsals start at ten so we have two hours to chill”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funeral starts at half-past ten so I have some time too” he smiled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dosa at Chanti’s?” Ajay asked as Karan took a seat behind him on the bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You read my mind” he replied, hesitantly moving his hand to rest on Ajay’s shoulder. Ajay smiled to himself as Karan’s soft touch dug up so many memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat across each other, gobbling down their breakfast while talking absolute rubbish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long are you staying this time Jay?” Ajay’s heart fluttered, it had been too long since he had heard Karan call him Jay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three months” Karan raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s long,” he said, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, forced leave. Something about not taking enough last year or whatever,” Ajay trailed off, lying never came easy to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So tell me more about this documentary,” Ajay asked, cringing at his horrible attempt to change the subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Sonia’s told you enough,” Ajay’s eyebrows furrowed at his response. “Whenever she’s on the phone she’s talking about it,” Karan explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but I want to know what you think about it” Ajay prompted him to talk about the documentary, knowing he would have strong opinions and genuine curiosity, truth be told he knew of nothing that happened while he was off protecting the country. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m starting to understand your patriotism,” Karan started. Ajay watched him closely, the topic seemed to ignite something in him. His eyes were fiery and filled with a passion he hadn’t noticed before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His time with Karan passed too quickly for his liking. Ajay stood right behind the family at the funeral, tears threatening to spill from his tired eyes, the anger returning rather quickly causing him to be shifty and quiet through it all. An urge to say something, do something rose in him and despite his efforts didn’t wither. He looked over at the familiar faces beside him, the same urge and anger in their eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, back at the ‘classroom’ the group of friends sat scattered over the steps, thick scripts in each hand. Sue sat cross-legged in front of Laxman and Aslam, helping them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s really good Laxman, bas ab tum Aslam ke saath practice kaaro. You both almost have it perfect, just practice okay? I’ll go see what Dj and Sukhi are doing,” (That’s really good Laxman, now just practice with Aslam. You both almost have it perfect, just practice okay? I’ll go see what Dj and Sukhi are doing,) they nodded and turned to each other, knees just inches away from touching. Aslam started saying his lines, Laxman listened, biting his lip in concentration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry!” Laxman blurted out in the middle of his own lines. Aslam frowned in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Laxman woh line nahi hai,” (Laxman that's not the line) he shook his head innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean I’m sorry, like now.” Laxman attempted to explain. “Oh” was all Aslam said, still slightly confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maine tumhe jaise treat kiya tha, woh bahut galat tha. You didn’t deserve it. Maine kal raat ek kavitha padha tha-” (The way I treated you, it was very wrong. You didn’t deserve it. I read a poem last night-)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tum ek kavita ki waja se sorry bol rahe ho?” (You’re saying sorry because of a poem?) Aslam asked, interrupting with his eyebrows raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye- No. I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologise for a while but mauka nahi mila,” (Ye-No. I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologise for a while but I didn’t get a chance to,) he explained, guilt evident in his eyes and posture as he leaned over his script.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did the poem say?” Aslam asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s called Awake by Sarojini Naidu</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waken, O mother! thy children implore thee,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who kneel in thy presence to serve and adore thee!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night is aflush with a dream of the morrow,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why still dost thou sleep in thy bondage of sorrow?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Awaken and sever the woes that enthral us,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And hallow our hands for the triumphs that call us!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Are we not thine, O Belov’d, to inherit</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The manifold pride and power of thy spirit?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ne’er shall we fail thee, forsake thee or falter,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whose hearts are thy home, and thy shield and thine altar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lo! we would thrill the high stars with thy story,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And set thee again in the forefront of glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hindus: Mother! the flowers of our worship have crowned thee!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parsis: Mother! the flame of our hope shall surround thee!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mussulmans: Mother! the sword of our love shall defend thee!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christians: Mother! the song of our faith shall attend thee!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Creeds: Shall not our dauntless devotion avail thee?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harken! O Queen and O goddess, we hail thee!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aslam starred, stunned to silence, mouth hanging slightly open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know the whole poem?” he asked, amazed. Laxman nodded, slightly embarrassed. Aslam smiled, memories of being called a lunatic for sitting on the terrace using all his efforts to memorise large poems flashed in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend was practically in love with Naidu, I found the book under the bed last night and now I understand why. I never thought a poem would encourage me to do anything, ever. My friend was a lot like you, very sweet and loved reading and writing.” Laxman stopped himself from saying more and turned back to the script. It didn’t take long for Aslam to figure out the ‘friend’ was Grace. Aslam leaned over, his lips just millimetres away from Laxman’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apology accepted” he whispered, leaning back into his previous position. He missed the slight blush that crawled up Laxman’s neck. Laxman was grateful that Aslam looked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the busy duo sat Sue and Sonia sharing knowing looks and smirks between themselves.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:) I feel like a dosa or potato. Honestly, I can't even tell the difference anymore.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. V</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>V</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Yaar Sonia, Ajay ko kya hua? Aaj kal bahut udaas lag raha hai, sab theek?” (Hey Sonia, what’s up with Ajay? He looks quite upset these days, everything okay?) Aslam asks as Sonia sits beside him in the car.<br/>
“Haan main bhi wohi soch raha tha” (Yeah I was thinking the same thing,). Sukhi agrees with Aslam. Sonia sighs, sharing a knowing look with Karan.<br/>
“Tum log news nahi dekhte ho kya?” (Do you guys not watch the news?) Karan intrudes into their conversation. Both of them hesitantly shrug, glancing confusedly at each other. Karan and Laxman scoffed, shaking their heads.<br/>
“Why would they Karan? They’re too busy looking at girls on the screen,” Sonia commented.<br/>
“Another pilot” Laxman started “his aircraft basically blew up in the sky.”<br/>
“Everyone is blaming bad training and Ajay told me he knew the pilot, they were friends” Sonia added.  Both the boys mumbled a “oh”, faces dropping slightly as the extent of their ignorance hit them.  Karan sighed disappointedly as he realised Ajay had lied to him, yet again.<br/>
“The bloody defence minister is going on and on about better training and other bullshit that isn’t true,” Sonia adds.<br/>
“Ajay ko zyaada tang mat karna. Tum sab jante hai woh kaisa hai. Give him some space, let him grieve,” (Don’t nag Ajay too much. You all know how he is. Give him some space, let him grieve,) Karan instructs them. They nodded understandingly, eyes slightly lowered as they try to empathise with their friend. </p><p>The car holts in front of Mitro’s dhaba and the boys snap out of their thoughts and switch back into their bubbly selves, jumping around Mitro and pulling her leg as she smacks them with whatever utensil she was holding. Ajay drops down across Karan, laughing at the antics of his friends. As they settled down to eat, Ajay cleared his throat as though he was preparing himself to say something. Everyone glances up at him expectantly as he takes a sip of water and goes back to devouring the meal in front of him.<br/>
“Guys as promised, since we’ve finished shooting, tomorrow and the day after we have off. No editing, or reshooting, nothing at all as promised!” Sue announced giggling as the boys erupted in cheer, complaining about how anymore shooting would kill them. Laxman only sighs in relief.<br/>
“Toh saturday ka plan kya hai? Ajay?” (So what’s the plan for saturday? Ajay?) Sukhi asks as the expectant look returns on everyone’s face. Ajay shrugs.<br/>
“I’m a little busy on Sunday, but I’m definitely on for Saturday” he says, not making eye contact.<br/>
“Busy?” Sonia’s eyebrows furrow.<br/>
“Yeah I told you right about the work I have to do for work?” He says eyeing her as she nods knowingly. The others eye them suspiciously as they sense the hesitance and confusion in his voice. Sonia’s face drops slightly as she leans in to give him a small kiss.<br/>
“What about tomorrow?” Aslam asks with hope in his eyes, sporting a nervous smile.<br/>
“Tumhe kahi jana hai?” (You want to go somewhere?) Sue asks, leaning over to look at him.<br/>
He perks up, and chuckles nervously before saying something he knew everyone would hate.<br/>
“Actually, Bookshop has invi-” he was cut off by Dj and Sukhi groaning simultaneously. He shot daggers at them and waited for them to stop protesting his request without properly listening to what he had to say.<br/>
“Baath toh puri karne do yaar. Elvin K Vin has been invit-'' (Let me finish, guys. Elvin K Vin has been invit-) This time he was cut off by Karan choking furiously on his food. Dj passed him some water.<br/>
“You good?” Karan nodded in response, before cautiously going back to his food ensuring his facial expression did not change as Aslam went back to talking.<br/>
“Yeah so,  he’s coming and he’s literally the best Indian-American author. We have to go! Guys I promise ek ghanta lagega max please? I’ll get my book signed then we can leave cool?” (Yeah so,  he’s coming and he’s literally the best Indian-American author. We have to go! Guys I promise it’ll take one hour max please? I’ll get my book signed then we can leave cool?)  Aslam asks, leg bouncing in anticipation. Ajay chuckled slightly at his friend’s childlike pout and pleadingly furrowed eyebrows.<br/>
“I’m with Aslam on this one. I’ve read one of his books aur mujhe itna pasand aaya ke maine do hafte mein theen baar pad liye! Hume zaroor jana chahiye,” (I’m with Aslam on this one. I’ve read one of his books and I liked it so much that I read it three times in two weeks! We should definitely go,) Ajay states enthusiastically, agreeing with Aslam who perked up smiling widely.<br/>
“Indian-American? Naam se sirf American lag raha hai” Sukhi stated.<br/>
“Woh uska pen name hai idiot,” (That’s his pen name idiot) Aslam clarified. Sukhi furrowed his eyebrows and frowned.<br/>
“Pen name?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.<br/>
“It’s the name he uses to write, writers use pen names to hide their real identity or just for fun I guess. His real name is Vikrant Lal,” Sue explains, a hint of excitement overriding her voice. Karan kept his usual quiet as the others argued over Saturday’s plan.<br/>
“Wait, isn’t he that singer guy? He sang a really nice song, what was the name?” Sonia asks.<br/>
“Yeah he sang that parinda song, he wrote it also!” Aslam was beyond gushing at this point.<br/>
“Okay theek hai wahi chalte hain but uske baad club jayenge okay?” (Okay fine but we are going to the club afterwards okay?) Dj asks. Aslam groans but reluctantly agrees.<br/>
Karan sits on the edge of the cot, a cigarette in his hand yet again, staring at the bracelet yet again. Something he believed he’d not found himself doing in a while. Flicking the bud of the cigarette away he turned slightly to watch his friends sleeping soundly. Sighing, he lays back and stares at the stars trying to ignore the scenarios his creative mind was making of tomorrow and the chill that caught his spine.<br/>
-<br/>
The jeep halted once again near Aslam’s house as the afternoon sun burned brightly against the city. Karan sat in the driver's seat gripping the wheel as though it were a lifeline. The drive to the bookshop felt quiet, though that was not the reality, not with Delhi’s traffic and his friends in the back seat but those seemed to fade in the background in comparison to the voice in his head. The voice wasn’t saying anything in particular, just blabbering in panic.<br/>
“Tum log undar jao, mein, Sukhi aur Karan yahaan wait karenge” (You guys go inside. Sukhi, Karan and I will wait here) Dj said, observing the crowd outside the shop as Karan parked. Karan sighed in relief as the others headed inside, Aslam almost jumping with excitement, the smile never leaving his face.<br/>
“Why do we let him ruin our weekends like this?” Dj asked, grabbing the Marlboro box  Karan handed him.<br/>
“Oh please, tune agree kiya kyun ki Sue ko aana tha” (Oh please, you agreed because Sue wanted to come here too) Sukhi said whacking Dj as Karan laughed when Dj gasped at the accusation.<br/>
“He’s not wrong Dj” Karan says, smirking at the blush that crawls up Dj’s cheeks. They sat in the car talking out of their asses, smoking one cig after another for almost half an hour before they ran out.<br/>
“Where’s Karan?” Sue asks, walking towards the car, the others trailing swiftly behind her. The crowd had disappeared and only a few people lay scattered around the parking lot, most of them worked there and were out for a smoke break and others were hopping into their cars or onto their bikes to leave.<br/>
“Woh cigarettes lene gaya” (He went to get cigarettes) Sukhi replies, taking another drag from the one lit in his hand. Karan emerges from the back of a car, throwing the new Marlboro pack in the air, playing with it as if it were a ball, as his hand lays on the door handle a voice rings in his ear and he instinctively turns back at the name called out.<br/>
“Chhote!” the voice called, surprised.<br/>
Karan tried to make sense of the figures that wrapped him in a warm, peculiarly familiar embrace. As they pulled back from their friendly assault Karan’s confused expression faded as he realised who he’d met with.<br/>
“Angad! Rohan!” Karan exclaims, pulling them into another hug, a huge smile on his face. The others watched from the car, confused by the whole ordeal.<br/>
“Kaise ho tum log?” (How are you guys?) he asks, pulling back.<br/>
“Hum theek hai. Tu bata, school ke baad toh tu gayab ho gaya tha,” (We’re good. What about you? You disappeared after school)  one man with the turban asked, pushing Karan playfully.<br/>
“I’m fine bhai, woh number badal diya tha aur school bhi isliye tum logon ko contact nahi kar paya” (I’m fine bro, I changed my number and school too that’s why I couldn’t contact you guys) he replied.<br/>
“Vikrant ko dekhne aaya hai?” (You’ve come to see Vikrant) the man in the light blue shirt asks Karan. Karan chuckles nervously.<br/>
“No, my friends are fans” he reveals hesitantly. He turned towards the car.<br/>
“By the way this Sukhi, Dj, Sonia, Ajay, Laxman, Sue, Aslam. My friends and guys this is Angad” he points to the man with a black dastar matching his black shirt, “and this is Rohan.” He points to the man wearing a light blue shirt. They greet each other, a slight awkwardness in the air.<br/>
“Viku will be so happy that you’re here.  After all you guys were so close,” Angad states.<br/>
“Viku as in Vikrant as in Vikrant Lal?” Aslam asks, connecting the dots, the duo just nod. His jaw drops.<br/>
“Do you guys have plans for today?” Rohan asks, addressing the group sitting in the car.<br/>
“No not really”  Sonia answers absentmindedly  before Karan could.<br/>
“Bhai log chale?” (Bros lets go?) A voice calls out loudly behind them, before Rohan could ask them to join them. The figure freezes in front of the group, slowly taking off his glasses. Aslam let out an indignant sound, something between a squeak and a moan.<br/>
“Karan?” he whispers breathlessly, barely audible and if it wasn’t for the silence no one would have heard him say it.<br/>
“Hi” Karan replies in the same unintentionally hushed voice. They stare at each other in disbelief, Karan suddenly felt hot and the sun was beginning to set.<br/>
Though evidently hesitant, the man pulls Karan into a hug and it doesn’t last as long as either man wants it to. Karan and Vikrant seemed quite shocked that they were in the other’s presence. A tingling sensation attacked them both and they felt the other’s warmth linger in their arms.<br/>
“Guys this is the infamous Vikrant Lal” Karan says, slowly turning to the car and trying to regain a cool, unphased demeanor, catching Alsam’s glare then awe filled eyes. Karan’s sunglasses were still kept on his face, obstructing public display of most of his emotions. They introduced themselves and Vikrant happily shook all of their hands.<br/>
“Well Chhote tumhare dost hamare dost hain toh hotel paas mein hi hai follow kar lo okay?” (Well Chhote, your friends are our friends so the hotel I’m staying at is nearby. Follow us, okay?) Vikrant didn’t give Karan the chance to decline the offer as he turned on his heels and stepped into the fancy car that halted in front of him.<br/>
Karan hopped back into his car. Aslam sat in the passenger seat glaring at him as Ajay’s and Dj’s bikes took off into the distance. Aslam’s glare was fixed on Karan, making him squirm in his seat.<br/>
“Is something wr-” Karan started.<br/>
“Why didn’t you tell us you knew Vikrant Lal?” Aslam was practically yelling. Laxman and Sukhi sniggered.<br/>
“Yeah Chhote why didn’t you tell us?” Sukhi teased while leaning over to pull his cheeks.<br/>
“I haven’t talked to him in years, I didn’t even know you were a fan.” Karan mumbled, swatting Sukhi’s hands away.<br/>
Aslam’s grumbles fell quiet as they entered Vikrant’s hotel suite.<br/>
“Can I ask you one thing? Aap Karan ko Chhote kyun bulate ho?” (Why do you call Karan Chhote?) Sue asks, grabbing the soft drink Vikrant handed her.<br/>
“Oh! He was really short when we met him and he’s also younger, we were his seniors.” Rohan explained. Karan rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow towards Vikrant as he crouched, over exaggerating how short Karan really was.<br/>
“I wasn’t even that short and I’m taller than you now!” Karan stuck his tongue out to tease Vikrant.<br/>
“Whiskey?” Vikrant asked, all except Angad, Aslam and Sonia nodded.<br/>
After the first glass of some strong whiskey the air sensed to be less tense. It was a little early for alcohol but it calmed them and let them loosen up and the non-drinkers felt more free too.<br/>
“So let me guess you guys were probably the cool kids and all the girls were after you. You wore leather jackets and played basketball huh?” Sonia asked, taking another sip of her cola. Karan chuckled as Rohan almost spit out his drink. Vikrant and Angad were practically rolling on the floor as the others just waited in confusion. Vikrant shook his head, still laughing and ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. Angad calmed down enough to speak.<br/>
“No, oh god no. We went to an all boys boarding school so no girls and we were the lamest people there,” he revealed.<br/>
“Absolute losers” Karan added, playing with the hem of his white shirt, avoiding expectant stares.<br/>
“Karan was a loser?” Laxman asked in disbelief. The four school friends nodded, still recovering from their laughing fit.<br/>
“Karan, what have you done to make them think you were ever cool?” Rohan asked, ruffling Karan’s hair.<br/>
“I am cool, idiot” Karan shot back, slapping Rohan’s hand away. Angad rolled his eyes playfully.<br/>
“We were the musical kids but we did play soccer,” Angad revealed. “I played the drums, Rohan was the pianist, Karan vocals and guitar and Vikrant vocals too, we were terrible.” He laughed, downing his soda.<br/>
“What did you guys play?” Sue asked.<br/>
“Mostly covers, sometimes for a change we’d try to take one of Vikrant’s long poems and turn them into songs but that never went well,” Karan chuckled at the memories.<br/>
“Yeah,” Vikrant agreed, “we would just get tired and give up after two days of trying. Apart from that we would play anything and everything.”<br/>
“From Mohammed Rafi’s ‘Chaudhvin ka Chand’ to Paul McCartney’s ‘Twenty Flight Rock’. We’d skip lunch and hide in the music rooms, luckily the music teachers liked us enough to let us stay,” Rohan chimed in.<br/>
“Oh please! They liked you cause you were such a teacher’s pet!” Karan groaned.<br/>
“And you weren’t?” Vikrant asked, smirking.<br/>
“What?” Sukhi’s jaw dropped. “I cannot imagine Karan sucking up to teachers.”<br/>
“I didn’t!” Karan shouted defensively.<br/>
“Karan topped almost every class, most teachers loved him. He used to go to the library too and actually study! We had to stop him,” Rohan revealed, laughing.<br/>
“Rohan you’re an ass. I’ve kept all these secrets hidden for years and you’re just ruining my reputation,” Karan grumbled, hitting Rohan over the head.<br/>
“Woh tera already kharab hai tu fikar mat kar,” (don’t worry, your reputation is already ruined) Dj jokingly assured him. Karan couldn’t find another pillow to throw so he settled for flipping Dj off.</p><p>More stories were shared as the sun set, Karan groaned as Rohan continued to reveal his best kept secrets and as his friends laughed along, teasing him continuously, even Laxman had made a few remarks on ‘scholar’ Karan.<br/>
“I was never first! Okay fine, I used to get top five but never first!” He tried to defend himself but it was no use. Aslam chuckled, he’d never seen Karan this way, frustrated and annoyed, a little flustered and embarrassed evident from the slight pink hue on his cheeks.<br/>
“I was not a teacher’s pet! Teachers mujhe pasand karte the kyun ki mein quiet tha because mere apne class mein koi dost nahi the!” (Teachers liked me because I was quiet because I didn’t have any friends in my own class) Karan tried again but to no avail, the others just laughed him off.<br/>
“Karan, being a scholar is a good thing! You should be proud!” Aslam tried to encourage Karaan but ended up in a laughing fit of his own.<br/>
“Sorry, man I just can’t see you actually studying” he defended himself.<br/>
“Screw all of you,” Karan muttered, downing another drink.<br/>
“Okay Karan come on,” Vikrant abruptly said, standing up from his spot on the other side of the room. Karan shot him a questioning look.<br/>
“Dude! I’ve heard Delhi night life is the best and who better to help me check it out than my best friend and his friends?” Vikrant asked rhetorically, stretching out a hand for Karan to grab. Karan lifted himself off the sofa, disregarding the offered hand.<br/>
“I know exactly where we should go!” Dj exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. Hurriedly they all filed out of the luxurious suite, jumbled conversations thrown into the air, a still slightly star struck Aslam rambling words of awe to anyone who would care enough to listen.</p><p>They filled the air with howls of laughter and excitement as they entered the club, walls embellished with light blue paint, lights bouncing off the walls and music loud enough to make the ground beneath them vibrate. The group had settled on the edge of the dance floor, somehow Ajay and Sue had managed to drag Laxman into the crowd. </p><p>Karan stealthily snuck away to the bar to down a few drinks and be rid of the lingering confusion.<br/>
“Woah calm down tiger,” Vikrant joked from behind him. Karan had stiffened at the voice, unintentionally. He leaned against the bar, dangerously close to Karan’s bar stool.<br/>
“Hey,” Karan put his glass down.<br/>
“Hi,” comfortable silence followed.<br/>
“Kaise ho tum?” (How are you?) It was a miracle that Karan was able to hear the man’s whispers over the loud music. Karan only nodded, not meeting Vikrant’s gaze. Fingers playing with the bracelet.<br/>
“Tum?” (you?)<br/>
“I’m fine” Vikrant responded blandly. A million questions ran through the both of them, questions, statements, things that they wanted to say to each other, have wanted to for a while now but the air was fragile.<br/>
“You still have it,” Vikrant said, placing a hand over Karan’s fingers, addressing the bracelet he had gifted him when they were boys. Karan’s hand stopped fiddling under Vikrant’s hold.<br/>
Vikrant did not pull away, Karan didn’t urge him too though he still refused to look at him.<br/>
Karan, control yourself, Karan thought.<br/>
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Vikrant, who stared at him, stunned and about to protest.<br/>
“I’m sorry” Karan continued, “I got all your emails and facebook messages, throughout the years. I couldn’t respond because I was a coward, I still am and the only reason I’m here right now is my friends. And I’m sorry that I left when you needed me most,” the words were whispered, in a way that it almost felt like a sacred confession.<br/>
“Are you done?” The question was almost sarcastic but it gave Karan the grain of confusion he needed. For the first time in lord knows how many years Karan looked at Vikrant, actually looked at the man. He noted how he had changed, for one he had a slight stubble, he was mature and his once curly, unkempt hair now perfectly styled but his eyes and that goddamn smile, those didn’t change, not even in the slightest. Maybe that’s what made this confrontation or conversation -whatever one would call it- all the more harder.<br/>
“We were children, we weren’t at fault,” Vikrant started, still in a low whisper, ”Don’t be sorry, I’m not. I wouldn’t change it, I’d only wish the good times lasted longer. Do you regret it? Us?”<br/>
“No.” Karan was surprised that Vikrant would even ask such a question, but he couldn’t blame him because Karan himself had similar questions.<br/>
“Did you resent me?” The words left Karan’s lips before he could stop them, but he needed answers. “When you didn’t email me for a while I thought you probably hated me because of everything, I know I never replied but,” he tried to give some sort of pretext for his question but nothing came out.<br/>
“In all honesty, for a while I did. I’ll admit that it was unnecessarily childish of me to do so but we were children. I learned that it wasn’t you I resented, it was more so what we had, I decided that it only caused pain to too many people but I got over myself soon enough or I just couldn’t stay away from you,” Vikrant retracted his hand after speaking, Karan had wanted to stop him from doing so but from the reflection of his whiskey glass he caught his friends making their way to them. Vikrant scooted away to make space for Angad and Sukhi between them.</p><p>The pub was now mostly cleared out and only a handful of other people remained.<br/>
“Tum dono kya baat kar rahe ho yahan akele akele?” (What are you both talking about over here all alone) Dj asked, dropping down onto a seat near the pale blue sofas. Sukhi clapped a hand down on Karan’s back before taking a seat next to him.<br/>
“Just reminiscing.” Vikrant stated. Karan turned in his seat to face the gang. The others also, ungraciously plopped down onto the sofas.<br/>
“Purane adat abhi bhi nahi chooti? They used to do this all the time, vanish into their own little bubble,” (Haven’t let go of your old habit? They used to do this all the time, vanish into their own little bubble) Rohan added with a chuckle, causing Ajay to eye the duo suspiciously. The group fell into a conversation on politics and freedom as Angad asked Sue about her stay in India.<br/>
Ajay glanced between Vikrant and Karan, Vikrant’s gaze seemed to be fixated on his friend and Ajay didn’t like that not when every time Karan happened to glance over at Vikrant his eyes would soften, in a way that he seemed upset, like he’d lost something. He’d felt that familiar pang of jealousy he would feel when other men would try to flirt with Sonia and she would respond, oblivious to the ulterior motives.</p><p>‘Jealousy.’ Ajay thought. ‘You have no right to feel jealous, you left remember? Why should you feel jealous, it’s not Sonia he’s looking at.’ </p><p>“How did you get into poetry and writing?” Sukhi asked Vikrant, wanting to move on from this topic that had seemed to follow them for a while now. </p><p>“My uncle got me into reading classics and poetry and the more I read the more I wanted to write my own pieces,” Vikrant explained.<br/>
“It must be hard though, staying motivated with all the deadlines and things right?” Aslam asked.<br/>
Vikrant smiled. “This is becoming increasingly like an interview.”<br/>
Karan laughed, obviously drunk, he had been downing whiskey after whiskey as the others spoke.<br/>
“I’m sorry I-” Aslam began apologising before Vikrant intervened.<br/>
“No no! Don’t apologise, I’m more than happy to answer. I tend to ignore deadlines, most of the publishers I work with tend to hate that about me but writing is art and art can’t be rushed. Along the way I made some publisher friends and they’re more lenient with deadlines and I can push them a little,” Vikrant ended with a chuckle.</p><p>“What do you both do?” Aslam asked, addressing Angad and Rohan.<br/>
“I’m a lawyer” stated Angad.<br/>
“I own a chain of restaurants in Mumbai, family business. You all are students?” Rohan asked.<br/>
“Ajay is in the air force, Laxman works in a political party and well Sue is a filmmaker but the rest of us are,” Sukhi explained. Laxman visibly grimaced at the revelation.<br/>
“Air force?” Vikrant chimed, “That must be an interesting job.”<br/>
Ajay only nodded in response. Dj sparked another conversation on something, Ajay was a little too focused on Karan to really pay attention.</p><p>Karan downed another drink before standing up, or rather attempting to. He turned around and asked for another drink and grabbed it before making his way to the sofas and practically falling into one next to Rohan. Rohan put an arm around him.</p><p>“Karan, tumhe zyada ho gaya hain, ab bus karo,” (Karan, you’ve had too much, now stop) Sonia tried to reach over for the glass but Karan downed it before she could, she shook her head, sighing disapprovingly.<br/>
“Arey kaake kya hua?” (Hey bro what happened?) Dj asked playfully, the hint of concern quite present. They stared at him in concern as he laughed, Karan reached forward to grab Rohan’s beer off the table. Rohan was fast enough to interject and move the beer bottle away.<br/>
“No” Rohan’s voice was stern, treating Karan like he was a child as he was definitely behaving that way. Karan huffed and pouted angrily.<br/>
“Rohan,” he whined, “peene do yaar, aaj main bahut khush hoon! All my friends are here,” (Rohan, let me drink, I’m very happy today! All my friends are here,) he giggled, speech slurred as stretched out his arms, hugging their figures from afar. He watched unfazed as his friends laughed and rolled their eyes at his drunken antics.<br/>
Though it was all humorous, Ajay couldn’t help but be slightly concerned for Karan, sure he’d seen Karan drink and be drunk but not to this extent. His speech was slurred and eyes unfocused and he was giggling like a teenage girl in front of her crush, it was very out of character for him.</p><p>“We should go, it's getting quite late. Karan come, I’ll drop you home,” Ajay offered his hand to Karan. They had left the car and bikes at the hotel, considering the bar was barely a five minute walk.<br/>
“If he goes home like this his father will kill him,” Vikrant interjected, throwing Karan’s arm over his shoulder and pulling him off the sofa. “He can stay with me for tonight.” Karan slumped slightly against him, resting his head on Vikrant’s shoulder and though Vikrant was slightly shorter, he was quite strong and very easily managed to manoeuvre Karan up and out of the place. Ajay just retracted his hand slowly, biting back words and trying his best to hide the anger he felt.</p><p>They walked behind the rest of the group and though Ajay was walking with Sonia around him, all he could think of was the conversation brewing between his very drunk friend and the author. Vikrant watched as Karan tilted his head to watch the moon gasping quietly at its beauty, as if he’d not seen one his entire life, cuddling closer to Vikrant as the cool wind hit his cheeks. Vikrant watched as the moonlight gleamed through the trees and clouds and Karan basked in its glory. </p><p>Vikrant decided once again that Karan’s eyes alone shone brighter than any moon, sun or star he’d seen. Maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed but Vikrant could still see the same innocence he met years ago in those eyes, though it was clear that it was not completely untainted, people had tried hard to ruin it but it fought through.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop him off?” Ajay asked, slowing his pace down to meet the two.<br/>
“Yeah, don’t worry I’ll make sure your friend is safe and sound throughout the night,” Vikrant reassured, playfully. Ajay smiled politely before waking off, teeth gritted as a sudden guilt consumed him when his eyes fell over his fiancé. <br/>
They said their goodbyes as they reached the hotel and Vikrant staggered into the lift and his room, dragging Karan along and placing him as gently as possible onto the bed. He waited for Karan to fall asleep, watching his chest heave up and down ever so slightly and a peaceful smile on his face, but as he tried to get up the drunk boy grabbed onto his arm and groaned, dragging him back onto the bed. Vikrant couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Karan this vibrant and happy. Joy was a good look on him, making him twice as attractive as he usually was, which Vikrant already thought impossible. </p><p>Vikrant softly traced the creases of his forehead, fingertips travelling down to his thick eyebrows then closed eyes that adorned thick and long eyelashes. He turned his hand and let his knuckles graze his cheekbones and nose then turned again let his fingertips linger over Karan’s lips.</p><p>‘No stop,’ Vikrant thought, ‘He’s drunk, you’re drunk.’<br/>
His fingertips left the air above Karan’s lips and moved to his neck, brushing against the exposed skin but his eyes stayed focused on Karan’s plump lips. He leaned over the boy, faces only inches apart, he could smell the alcohol in Karan’s breath and dropped his head slightly and closed his eyes.<br/>
‘No, don’t even think about it. This is wrong.’ He was warning himself.<br/>
He felt Karan shift under his hold but didn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t believe that he’d let himself do that to Karan. He opened his eyes and met with Karan’s, which fluttered from his lips back to his eyes then closed. Karan reached up and Vikrant bent down, their lips met in the middle. It was a passion filled kiss and they moved together but nothing about it felt sexual, it was pure, it held the same innocence and love they did for each other in their younger years. They pulled apart, out of breath, tears running down their faces as they smiled at each other revelling in this moment. </p><p>“Creep” Karan muttered as he rolled over, referring to how Vikrant had been examining his every feature only a moment or so before. Vikrant chuckled and collapsed into the space next to Karan, wrapping an arm around him, though they were happy in this moment and this time they knew as morning came they would have to return to their lives, and this moment would only be a passing memory. </p><p>They both wished that morning would never come and this night would be never ending.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I listen to sad songs on repeat while writing this? Maybe.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. '98</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please look at the trigger warnings in the tags. Most of the warnings in the tags are due to this chapter. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a little past 6 am, or that was what the clock in the room had said. The first rays of sun were gleaming through a crack in the curtains of the suite’s bedroom. Bits of the white sheets were dyed a dull merigold hue as the sun hit them. The chirpings from a flock of birds on a nearby tree managed to stir Vikrant into consciousness, a state where sleep clouded his eyes but he looked past it and he could feel the cool air conditioner blow softly through his hair but the rush of the hotel workers and public outside the door seemed to be distant. Vikrant shifted slightly, stopping as the sight before him took his breath away. Karan lay there, now facing him and Vikrant studied him yet again. His lips were ever so slightly apart, face relaxed, eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheekbones and the scraps of light made his complexion warmer, making him look like an angel given to this earth from the highest existing entity. Vikrant’s heavy eyelids fluttered close again, as the silence lulled him back to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Half past 6 and Karan was in a half-conscious state. The only thing he could truly process was the figure laid out in front of him. Vikrant’s chest heaved and the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards. The rough stubble which hid the dimples when he smiled and his once curly hair now lay in faltered lines, shaping the sun kissed face as the side of his long, sharp nose rubbed against the white pillows. His chin was titled ecuntating the sharpness in his jaw and his clothes were disheveled leaving his collarbone exposed and his strong arm stayed wrapped around Karan’s waist. The rays of the sun grew stronger by the second and cut through the translucent curtains, Vikrant glowed in the morning sun. To Karan it had seemed as though the man had been sculpted by the gods themselves and given as a gift to this undeserving world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan’s eyes wandered over the scene before him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s the creep now?” Vikrant’s groggy morning voice interrupted his analysis of the man.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your hand’s nearly on my arse so it’s still you,” Karan retorted, moving to get out of bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay” Vikrant moaned, tightening his grip on Karan’s waist. Karan then realised how much muscle Vikrant had truly put on, he struggled under the man's arm eventually giving into the embrace. Vikrant pulled him in closer, ducking down to nestle his head into Karan’s chest, inhaling his scent and appreciating his presence, his ruffled hair tickling the tip of Karan's nose as the other man completely melted into him, moulding their bodies into each other. Then, all of a sudden Vikrant was the strange, taller, scrawny, curly haired boy Karan had met years ago.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>1998</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan, I don’t wish to leave you here, I really don’t but I can’t leave you at the house alone and if i take you to all my meetings then you’ll miss so much school and I don’t want you to fall behind in your studies either” Rajnath Singhania mumbled on as Karan sat in the backseat of the white mitsubishi lancer, tuning in and out of his father’s reasonings, scratching nervously at the seat or the exposed skin of his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay papa. I understand,” Karan replied when he’d stopped hearing his father’s deep voice. It had been only the second time since Karan had been in a car since the accident last year, he was beyond nervous and the three hour journey after the tiring train ride felt hours longer than reality and his father kept glancing back from the passenger seat to watch his son worriedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they reached the boarding school, Karan’s new school now, they walked out around the campus and Karan was introduced to one of the classes that was going on for his grade, he smiled politely and followed the teacher and the student leading him and his father out of the room. As they toured the outside, Karan’s eyes were set to the trees and hills that surrounded the school noting that it would be the perfect place to sit and listen to some music, maybe even do homework. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had finally finished the “tour” and the son and father had been left alone in the grade 9 sleeping area to say their goodbyes. Karan watched fondly as his papa fussed over him and reminded him to take care of himself for the thousandth time that day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Papa I’ll be fine. I'm not a child,” Karan interjected his father’s fussing with reassurance. Rajnath just smiled at him and sat next to him, putting an arm around his son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Karan, my little boy is not so little anymore,” he teased, pulling Karan’s cheeks and earning a groan from the teen. “Papa stop, please.” Kaan chuckled and playfully swatted his fathers hand away. Rajnath sighed as he got up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll miss you beta (son). Study well and take care,” he kissed Karan on the forehead and turned to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye Papa,” Karan muttered, upset yet understanding of the situation. As his father disappeared, he huffed into the empty room. Though he expected to keep to himself and focus on studying during his time here he could not help but feel nervous for this new beginning.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>As he had promised himself the next day Karan ventured out into the surrounding greenery, they were allowed out into the area before sunset but few kids found the will to leave the sporting area and appreciate the beauty they were constantly surrounded by. He’d managed to find a fairly deserted area and sat on a patch of grass, leaning against a tree. Somehow he’d managed to carry out his Walkman - a gift from his mother, tapes, stationery and schoolwork he needed to catch up on, it wasn’t much considering they were only a week into the semester. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put on some music and began to do his work, stopping ever so often to rewind the tape or change it and hummed along quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He changed the tape and picked up his work once again, resting the book in his lap. But just as his pencil touched the paper the song started to play and he froze. He thought he would be able to listen to the song but now he began doubting himself and his strength. The lyrics though very familiar seemed foreign in these new circumstances and Karan did not think himself capable to interpret them as he once used to. The lyrics started.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Taaron ka mela bharaa hai</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(The fair is full of stars)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gagan mein</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(In the sky)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tu hai akela</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(You are alone)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akela</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Alone) </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kaagaz ka sapna</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(The dream of the papers)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Khila hai chaman mein</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Is open in the garden)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Koi na apna</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(No one’s own)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Na apnaa</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Not yours)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Na apnaa</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Not yours)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Peena hai aansoo</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(I have to drink tears)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jeena hai aansoo</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(There are tears to live)-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>Karan inhaled sharply, surprised as his earphones were pulled out. His eyes met unfamiliar brown ones staring at him in confusion. A moment engraved very</em> differently in the two minds. Karan was annoyed that a moment of grieving- not that he would ever call it that, was so rudely disturbed and for the boy staring at him this was a moment to shoo away a junior from his spot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re in our spot.” The boy stated, Karan peered over the boy's shoulder to see two other boys behind him, taller than the one already towering over him waiting with their arms crossed over their chests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see your name written here,” he retorted, sighing when the boy looked back at the other two. “I’m sorry, I’ll just leave.” Karan apologised, remembering his mother’s words about being kind and his father’s lecture on not starting any trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay.” This time it was a female’s voice, Karan freaked out at the thought of gaining a teacher’s attention but it was only another student. She stepped forward and flicked the boy’s forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she started. “These idiots don’t know how to be civil. I’m Sunaina by the way. Kajal ma’am’s daughter,” she introduced herself with a sweet smile, a navy blue headband matching the school’s tie pulled her hair back, her clothes ironed to perfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan” he returned her smile albeit half heartedly. She glanced over at the boys behind her, giving them a pointed look. They groaned and rolled their eyes but stepped forward and one by one introduced themselves. That’s how Karan met Angad, Rohan and Vikrant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the new boy right?” Angad asked. Karan nodded shyly. “It’s a little weird that you’re starting two weeks after school has already started.” Angad noted, shrugging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you listening to?” Rohan asked, motioning to his labelled cassettes. Karan gave them a nod of permission to go through them. They smiled like children in candy stores as they found some music which they themselves were very fond of as they rummaged through the few cassettes he had bought out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a little disappointed at the lack of ABBA music but I guess ‘Casablanca’ makes up for it,” Sunaina pointed out. Karan chuckled awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have more cassettes in my room, I can bring them another time if you’d like” he suggested. They nodded eagerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the start of a beautiful friendship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan soon found out they weren’t the most loved people in the institution but he couldn’t care less. He dismissed the weird looks and stereotypical taunts from other students. Though they were his seniors, only by a year, he managed to fit into their strange puzzle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> They would call him out in the middle of the night, sneaking him out through a back gate which was quite low and go out to see movies. They got him his first fake ID, first cigarette and first drink of booze. Most of all they provided a distraction from his grief, admittedly not the best way to heal but it was something. But they cared enough to notice Karan and were sensitive enough to not pry. If Karan had avoided a meal or more that day they would sneak in some extra snacks for him, they’d find out that he was a sucker for chocolate, when he would zone out of their conversation they would bring him back with a joke and leave funny notes in his textbooks if he woke up moody. They even snuck him into the music rooms during lunch time and would prance around performing and practicing their music , hoping it would cheer him up. Vikrant would read him some of the beautiful poetry that he’d written, Sunaina and Angad would recite and perform Shakespeare sonnets no one understood except themselves, Rohan was a history freak and he would indulge them in wonderful facts and stories and Karan would pick up the guitar and gladly adhere to Sunaina’s millions of requests. Karan had grown quite fond of Vikrant’s writings, many times they would hide away to have Vikrant read aloud his works and Vikrant found himself more inspired to write these days, a strange force pushing him to write about beauty and love, things he usually strayed from. It reminded Karan of his mother reading classic pieces of literature and sharing her love of books with him. The others would tease them, calling them a ‘lovesick couple’ unable to pry themselves away from each other. Vikrant would hide pages of writings in Karan’s belongings, hoping he would find them and Karan would have the biggest smile as he did, though the acts elicited homophobic slurs, taunts directed to Karan from other boys. Karan couldn’t help that Vikrant and he were dangerously affectionate towards each other.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>They had all even found the courage to confide in each other. It was a Saturday, the half day of classes had finished and Karan sat alone in the back of the library, a place his friends, in fact many did not frequent. There were only two students in the library apart from him and they sat on the other end of the room, not in view of the boy. Karan sat cross legged in a corner, covered by a towering bookshelf and had a book in his lap and in that book lay a photograph of his mother, father and himself. His family. He could not focus on his classes that day nor did he wish to see anyone, a quite difficult task when in an environment of nosy teenage boys that sneer at everything. Tears threatened to spill but he didn’t allow them to, so they stayed buried within his eyes and blurred the images of a fond memory. It was Sunaina that had found him about an hour after classes had finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, who are you hiding from?” she whispered, taken back when he looked up at her, big eyes full of unshed tears. Her posture and expression softened and she took a seat next to him, examining the picture in the book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You miss them?” she asked. He nodded, not revealing the whole truth. They sat in a comfortable silence for about ten minutes before the boys stormed in, causing an outburst from the old librarian. It had taken the boys a moment to really read the room but apologised as they did and quietly sat down, forming a small circle on the carpeted floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re like a perfect mix of your parents,” she stated, resting her chin on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Homesickness is normal,” Rohan chimed in. “I’ve been in boarding school since I can remember and I still feel homesick sometimes. Both my parents are in the army so I barely see them but being here makes you cherish them even more.” The silence settled back in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They played with the carpet on the ground and sighes, Karan ran his fingers over his mother’s smiling figure before speaking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Ma, she um” he struggled, swallowing a cry he spoke “She died in a car accident last year. I- I was in the car, I saw her take her last breath.” he finished with great difficulty and bowed his head at the small gasps of shock. Karan sighed as four sets of arms wrapped around him and he was surrounded by a comforting warmth. They reluctantly pulled back after a few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Chotte,” Angad voiced his condolences. “My Grandmother died two years ago, my mum still cries sometimes. She helped raise me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Grandpa has dementia, we were very close and now he can’t remember me. He always thinks I’m mumma, and I’ve never met any of my other grandparents” Sunaina revealed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m always afraid that my parents won’t come back and I wish that at least one of them would just stay and take over my Grandpa’s restaurants. It's less dangerous,” Rohan slumped forward, sighing as he thought of his parents. The silence settled in a little heavier this time, everyone rather unsure of how to comfort the others and let them know they weren't alone. They half-expected Vikrant to speak up but didn’t want to pressure him. After what had felt like eons but were a few minutes Vikrant sucked in a breath and spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know either of my parents, Ma died in childbirth and Dad when I was three. I feel like I don’t have the right to miss them. I love my uncle and aunty but I wish I knew my parents,” Vikrant confessed. Their silence was consoling, a way to allow themselves to grieve their losses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s nice to know that we’re all a little messed up na?” Angad chuckled. They burst into laughter earning a hush from the librarian. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But soon the school year had come to an end and Karan was back home. He had never felt more suffocated yet alone, his father continued to distance himself. Karan didn’t think it was intentional, any man would be sullen and detached after losing the love he fought so hard for. Karan didn’t want to burden him with his own grief so he busied himself, over the break he learnt to drive from Ram Uncle their driver and his father had brought him a camcorder to muck around with. He found little things to fill the emptiness in his house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karan was, for the first time ever, excited to go back to school, he wanted to escape the emptiness that filled his house. This year his senior friends would have a dorm room to themselves, a privilege reserved for students in grade 11 and 12. When he returned a day before classes started he found them in their usual hiding spot behind the school, Angad chasing around the others, cheeky grins on their faces.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Ho kya raha hain yahaan?” (what’s going on here?) he yelled to gain their attention. They tackled him into a rough embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angad’s in love!” Sunaina stated in a sing-song voice. She handed Karan a picture of a girl with long hair braided to the side adorning a lilac suit. Angad hid his face in embarrassment as the others continued to tease him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how does it feel?” Karan asked, scooching closer to Angad as they sat on the grass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Angad asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does it feel to be in love?” Karan repeated, Angad smiled a little twinkle visible in his grey eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really want to know?” Karan nodded eagerly. Angad sighed and let out a hearty chuckle before answering. “In the beginning it’s all butterflies and it makes your heart beat really fast but soon with time all you feel is peace, like when I’m with Preeti all I feel is peace and every problem seems small. It’s like nothing else in the world matters anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it like what they show in the movies? Does everything happen in slow motion? Do violins play in your head?” Sunaina asked, eagerly moving forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No idiot, it’s better than the movies,” Angad began to explain in more detail. Vikrant’s heart started to beat faster and faster as he ran his fingers through his curls, he’d felt all of this and so much more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over at Karan, a similar expression graced his face but his eyes stayed focused on the grass beneath them. Vikrant knew or at least had a strong feeling that Karan had felt all he was feeling too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>‘Is this love?’</em> Vikrant asked himself.<em> ‘But with a male? That’s wrong. But it’s everything Angad is saying and what all the romance novels say too, it must be love. There is no other explanation.’ </em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thoughts were interrupted by a low voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey fags” the voice boomed. Sniggering from behind the voice came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bugger off Abhi!” Sunaina shot back, rolling her eyes. Karan had heard of Abhi and seen him around, the teachers loved him but the students had a completely different perception. Karan heard from Vikrant that the year before Karan joined Abhi and his posy had harassed two students, the police were called but somehow (with Abhi’s dad’s money) they managed to get out of it but the two students left. Karan had always wondered what they did to drive out students from the school. Suddenly Abhi locked eyes with Karan, who looked away, uncomfortable and unsure whether he should be scared or disgusted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey you! Pretty boy, I’ve not seen you around in classes, why is that?” Abhi’s voice was sickly sweet, almost taunting them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m only in tenth,” Karan said, not maintaining eye contact. Vikrant huffed angrily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave him alone Abhi” he ordered through gritted teeth. Abhi scoffed and turned to lock eyes with Vikrant, stepping over the others to trap Vikrant between himself and the tree he was leant against till their faces were only inches apart. It reminded Karan of how he’d first met Vikrant except he had taken Karan’s place and Abhi took Vikrant’s. But it was different, Vikrant’s eyes had pure disgust in them and Abhi was unreadable, it was an emotion Karan hadn’t quite witnessed or ever felt. He didn’t understand it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or what? Listen Viku,” he spat “I think it’s really cute that you want to protect your new boyfriend but I’m sure he can speak for himself” he ended, smiling. The others sighed in relief as he walked away, his posy following closely behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for them his torment didn’t stop there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After classes the next day, Karan made his way to the back of the school, and out to the grassy area they usually sat at to find Vikrant sitting there alone and staring off into the distance. Karan elbowed him in the ribs softly as he sat down, then nodded to ask him what he was thinking. Vikrant scooted closer to him and Karan felt his heart beat speed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Vikrant started, voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking about what Angad was saying about love and all. Karan,” he sighed, putting his hand atop Karan’s, which was resting on his knee. Karan glanced at where they were touching. “I think I know what he’s saying. I’m sure I’ve felt it, the peace and rush, everything. I feel it with a person.” Vikrant used his other hand to lift Karan’s head and lock eyes with him but quickly retracted it after he did. Karan noted that he was blushing and his eyes held affection.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘No,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Karan thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Don’t keep your hopes up, let him finish’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan,” he started again. “It’s you. You’re the person I feel it with,” Karan felt a wave of relief wash over him and he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a panicked Vikrant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, if you don’t feel the same way I understand but I also know you feel the same way but I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t want to overwhelm you. You’re still young and I understand but please whatever your decision is I don’t want this to ruin our friend-” Karan placed his lips on Vikrant’s cheek, shocking him into silence. Karan laughed fondly as Vikrant’s jaw dropped and his mouth formed an ‘O’ shape. Slowly his lips curled into the largest smile possible and Karan tucked a few loose strands of Vikrant’s hair behind his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably shouldn't do things like that out here,” Karan chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Vikrant nodded in agreement, then he stood up and grabbed Karan’s hand and led him through the halls, dropping his hand when other students were nearby and finally into his dorm room. Luckily they got to pick roommates and Angad was in the drama club with Sunaina and Rohan was in the literature club, they all did only band and philosophy club together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a child you know,” Karan stated. Vikramt furrowed his brows in confusion. “When we were sitting you called me young. Just because I’m younger and only by a year mind you, doesn’t mean I’m a child,” Karan explained. Vikrant just chuckled and closed the door behind him, taking a seat on one of the beds he patted the area next to him motioning Karan to sit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I just wanted to talk openly without the chance of other people hearing,” Vikrant reassured, sensing Karan’s tension at their isolation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this is a thing now huh? Us?” Karan asked, blushing and examining the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I guess it is,” Vikrant kept his gaze on Karan, not wanting this moment to end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘It’s a nice room, for a school dorm,” Karan muttered, finally taking a seat. In all honesty Vikrant hated the room but in this moment it wasn’t too bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their first kiss was a few weeks into the semester, they had run into a bathroom stall to hide from one of the watchmen, this particular one strongly disliked them and had almost caught them trying to sneak out. They were pressed against each other, suppressing giggles and Karan’s head dropped into Vikrant’s mustard wool clad chest. They could finally breathe as the watchmen walked away from them and toppled out of the stall landing near a window in fits of laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think Ang and Ro are in the music room, let’s go,” Karan was about to walk away as Vikrant grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kya hua?” (What happened?)  Karan asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Full moon,” Vikrant pointed to the moon, gleaming brightly from far away above the trees. He softly tugged Karan back into the low light of the moon and Karan smiled fondly at it. Vikrant watched Karan as he watched the moon with big hopeful eyes. Vikrant decided that Karan’s eyes alone shone brighter than any moon, sun or star he’d seen. Karan blushed furiously as he caught Vikrant staring, Vikrant shuffled closer and took Karan’s face into his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chaudhvin ka chand ho, ya aaftaab ho, jo bhi ho tum Khuda ki kasam, lajawab ho,” (Are you the full moon, or the sun? Whatever you are, I swear to God, you are beyond compare! -lyrics to an old hindi song) he whispered and Karan smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so melodramatic Viku!” he giggled but continued to look into his caramel eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I kiss you?” Vikrant whispered. Karan played with the hem of his grey, knitted sweater before nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan didn’t sit around imagining things but this was not what he expected, he’d always thought his first kiss would be something straight out of a movie with rain, fireworks in a beautiful field of sunflowers but not in a unpleasantly smelly toilet in his school. The kiss itself however was better than any feeling in the world, sure he had to reach upwards a little and it was wet but still very very pleasant. He could feel tiny little sparks in all the places his skin touched Vikrant’s and a strange warmth engulfed him. They chuckled breathlessly as they parted and held hands as they snuck back to the dorm, Karan seemed to bunk there with them more often than not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The year had gone by smoothly, which was a surprise considering trouble seemed to find the group. Karan and Vikrant’s little touches, winks and gestures went unseen for the most part and they always seemed to have a good cover up, thankfully. The holidays between his 10th and 11th year were too long for Karan’s liking, he spent most of it looking over the things Vikrant had written for him or emailing and calling Vikrant and some of it practicing driving and documenting nature. Vikrant would graduate this year and leave Karan behind at that godforsaken school for a whole year so he wanted to spend as much time together as possible.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few weeks into school, after classes for the day and dinner had finished and people were retiring to their dorms, Karan made his way through a crowded corridor. Suddenly he was dragged by his arm and collar into an empty room. Karan immediately recognised the sharp face, Abhi. He knew this was not going to end well, this room had not been used in years. Karan was roughly pushed onto the floor and Abhi turned back to lock the door. Before Karan got the chance to open his mouth Abhi landed a punch to his jaw and a kick to his gut causing Karan’s skinny figure to curl up in itself in immense pain. Abhi grabbed him by the collar again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen here you little shit,” he spat. “Whatever the fuck is going on between you and your faggot boyfriend needs to end. Now.” Karan was shocked that he knew but stood his ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you Abhi!” he responded, wiping droplets of blood off his chin. The statement earned him a great deal of punches and kicks to his whole body and rather crude statements thrown his way. One particular phrase caught his ear though, he was thankful it did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not good enough for Vikrant! You will never be!” Abhi’s voice boomed through the room between the beating he was giving and Karan froze. So did Abhi. Karan scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you are?” Karan questioned, voice strong though he was sure he would bleed out. “Take a good look at yourself Mr Abhi Sinha and ask yourself, will Vikrant, an angel like man, want a cruel, spineless bully like you?” Karan smirked sensing that he was getting on Abhi’s nerves. With one last punch, Abhi threw Karan farther into the classroom and walked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karan managed to stagger to his friends’ room and was met immediately with three concerned boys leading him to a bed. They helped with his wounds, luckily Rohan had a first aid kit under his bed to avoid the school nurses and they gave Karan some water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was that asshole Abhi wasn’t it? Answer me! Chhote?” Angad questioned, both rage and concern evident in his voice. Rohan handed Karan some chocolate, hoping it would cheer him up a little. Karan took it gratefully, his body had almost given out in the short walk to this room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to kill him,” Angad vowed through gritted teeth. Karan winced as Rohan applied some disinfectant to the wounds and his grip on Vikrant’s hand tightened. Rohan muttered an apology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Karan replied as sternly as he could through a wince. “He’s not worth it Angs, trust me.” Angad just sighed disappointedly, and continued to mumble in rage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karan had his own dorm room now but he usually slept in his friends’ room, in Vikrant’s bed. Karan’s dorm mates were nice but he’d rather be here. When he was definite that Rohan and Angad were asleep he shuffled closer to Vikrant, who was unsurprisingly awake, too concerned to sleep. Karan groaned as he moved and Vikrant rubbed comforting circles on his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viku? Can I ask you something?” Vikrant hummed in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did something happen between you and Abhi?” there was a short pause of silence before Karan spoke again. “You don’t have to answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that followed was long and Karan thought that Vikrant was not going to answer, he’d almost given up on his significant other until Vikrant sighed into the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a mistake,” and that was all he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following weeks were filled with worry and tension. Sunaina had taken every opportunity to glare and send daggers with her eyes to the boy that had assaulted her friend. If looks could kill then Vikrant would have been dead over a billion times by now and Sunaina would be in jail for murder, Angad, Rohan and Vikrant would be too. Abhi refused to even look at Karan but everytime they accidentally caught each other’s eye, either in the corridors or the play fields surrounding the buildings, Karan would be sure to send him a sinister smirk, reminding him that he knew his secret.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as Karan and his friends had thought that things were better they had taken a turn for the worse. Much much worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karan and Vikrant were running around trees, laughing as they made fun of each other. Without warning, Vikrant caught up to Karan and trapped him against a tree, cautiously enough to not hurt either of them. An out of breath Karan let out a (manly) squeal and continued to giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi” Karan chucked, breathlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi” Vikrant responded, voice lower than usual and as Karan read his eyes he saw an unfamiliarly familiar expression. Then it struck him, he’d seen it in Abhi, when he had Vikrant trapped against a tree, somewhat resembling this current situation. Lust. But in Vikrant’s eyes it presented itself much more beautifully in a sense that there was no greed or obsessive ulterior motive behind it but there was love, something that seemed to lack in Abhi. Vikrant leaned down to kiss him, it was like no other kiss they’d ever shared. There was no hesitation, just pure passion and love. Karan wrapped his arms around Vikrant’s neck and Vikrant pushed his body against Karan’s, grinding their hips together. Karan felt every inch of himself burning, a foreign sensation took over him and he could feel a knot in his stomach as Vikrant’s hands moved down his body. Karan felt completely vulnerable as he whimpered, but strangely the vulnerability wasn’t clouded with fear as he trusted Vikrant completely. Karan was too far gone to properly register anything else but it seemed that Vikrant was somehow, miraculously still able to use his senses for things beyond themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit! Fuck!” Vikrant swore, pushing himself off of his lover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kya hua?” (What happened?) Karan asked, disappointed at the sudden lack of contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tumne suna nahi?” (You didn’t hear?) Karan shook his head no to Vikrant’s question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was a camera sound and then someone ran. Someone saw us!” Vikrant explained. Karan gasped, head hitting the tree as he groaned in realisation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re fucked!” they stated in unison. Vikrant had tried to chase the unknown photographer but was a little too late and the person had taken off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to maintain some distance for a while okay? Just until we can figure out who has the picture,” Vikrant cupped Karan’s cheeks as he explained. Karan, though disappointed and anxious and wanting nothing more to hold Vikrant and calm himself down, understood the gravity of the situation and took off before Vikrant into his own dorm room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The following few weeks were suspiciously, almost terrifyingly calm. Karan and Vikrant tried their hardest to maintain as much distance as they could. Vikrant missed their touches and secretive smiles and all the weird pet names Karan had come up with for him and from Karan’s vacant eyes he could make out that Karan missed it all too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun had set on a calm, uneventful Thursday evening, a little over four weeks after the photograph  incident.  Karan knew Angad and Rohan would be off at drama and literature club respectively so he made his way to Vikrant’s room, thinking now would be safe enough since nothing had happened for a while. Karan found the door closed but as he tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. The school dorms did not have locks. He pushed harder and harder but to no avail. He banged his closed fists on the door, yelling over and over again for Vikrant and ignoring the odd looks he got. After 10 minutes he’d given up and stood in front of the door, ear pressed against it and contemplating whether a teacher should be summoned. As he’d gotten tired of waiting at the door and was just about to leave and call an adult, the door swung open and he toppled into a larger figure. Abhi. Karan stood outside the room and his concern for Vikrant grew as he struggled to see past Abhi’s well built figure. He ignored Abhi’s devilish smirk and tried to walk past him but before he could, Abhi roughly slammed him into the wall, his disgustingly smug smirk still plastered on his face, Karan wanted nothing more than to punch it off. Karan expected Abhi to swear or even spit at him but nothing of the sort happened, as he examined Abhi he noticed that his clothes and hair were disheveled, leaving his collarbones and neck exposed as his blue tie hung rather loosely and the top few buttons of his white shirt were not done up. Abhi laughed mockingly at Karan, he rolled his eyes, not wanting to deal with Abhi’s bullshit right now. Abhi retreated one of the arms holding Karan back and took something out of his back pocket. It was a photograph, it was THE photograph. Karan gulped anxiously and Abhi leant down till his lips were lingering near Karan’s ear, his hot breath making Karan writhe in discomfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell you boyfriend I have copies,” Abhi whispered, shoving the picture into Karan’s chest then finally letting him go and walking away, into his own dorm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karan rushed into Vikrant’s room, closing the door behind him. Vikrant was lying on his bed, only in his black boxers. He slept facing the wall and the blanket barely covered his body and he was yet to notice or acknowledge Karan’s presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viku?” Karan called out to him softly as he slowly inched towards the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go away.” his voice was low but firm and he’d sounded like a rock had been stuck in his throat. He was crying. Karan’s eyes skimmed over the figure on the bed, a dark stain on the white sheets caught his eyes. It was blood, mixed with another translucent, white substance, Karan trailed the blood finding it the be dripping out of the edge of Vikrant’s only article of clothing, the beginning of ugly, purple bruises in the shape of hands were evident on the soft skin of his hips and purple bruises on the side of his neck and trailing down his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re bleeding, let me help. Please!” Karan pleaded, standing merely a foot away from the bed, Vikrant quickly shuffled to cover himself up and ignored the pain shooting up his spine. He could hear and feel Vikrant suppressing his sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave Karan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan hadn’t registered the situation completely, leaving him confused as took a seat on Angad’s bed. Unsure of what to do he began examining the picture in his hand, he remembers the moment so clearly, his arms wrapped around Vikrant, pulling him as close as possible, lips and bodies moving in sync, it had felt like a sacred act but this picture, even to look at it had felt blasphemous, almost dirty to hold. The picture had taken spirituality out of the moment, it ruined it. It ruined everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out Karan.” Vikrant spat, anger coursing through his veins yet he refused to turn around and look at Karan. Karan knew Vikrant’s anger was not directed at him but he didn’t want to upset him further so he kept the picture on Vikrant’s pillow, near his head and left without another word. As he closed the door he could hear Vikrant’s heart wrenching sobs, Karan’s own heart tugged and begged him to go inside and comfort his lover but his mind knew better and he left, wiping at the tears in his own eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night Karan could not fall asleep, he lay awake in his bed, staring at the blank ceiling trying to make sense of the scene, he eventually did. As he did, he’d wished he hadn’t or that the realisation had come earlier, early enough to track Abhi down and beat him to a pulp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, Karan managed to get out of class for a few minutes and venture up to Vikrant’s dorm only to find him in the same position as the night before but this time he was showered and fresh clothes on. Karan cleared his throat hoping it would elicit a reaction or acknowledgement from Vikrant, it didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angs told me you aren’t feeling well. Eat something, please, you’ll feel better.” Karan pleaded, leaving a cheese toastie, Vikrant’s favourite breakfast which he managed to hide under his shirt and bottle of water on his bedside table before returning to class.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vikrant didn’t return to classes for another day, when he did he truly wasn’t himself. The first few days everyone just thought that he may still be feeling a little run down or sick but as it went on his friends could tell there was something more. Karan didn’t know why Vikrant was into writing, he was such a good actor that should be his profession instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oye losers!” Abhi called out to them one day as the five were making their way back to the building for dinner time. Rohan wrapped an arm around Sunaina’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ignore him,” Sunaina whispered. But Abhi kept taunting them and calling out to them, determined to get on their nerves with his overused insults.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Rohan! How many times do you give it to the girl in a week? Be a bro and send her to our room sometimes!” Abhi shouted, earning the attention of other students in the field. Karan did not want to start trouble, it was nearing the end of the school year and all he wanted was to spend every breathing moment with them. He loved them so he couldn’t stand hearing someone hurl such vile and disgusting insults at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up Abhi!” Karan yelled, turning to face him. Abhi scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or what? You’ll call daddy on me? Or your boyfriend?” Abhi asked, mockingly causing an eruption of laughter from his clique. Karan rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unlike you some of us don’t need to rush to daddy whenever we have a minor inconvenience,” Karan shot back with a smug smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan let’s go!” Sunaina tried to pull Karan back but Karan resisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait Naina, this just got interesting,” he sent her a reassuring look before turning to Abhi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better watch your mouth Singhania or I’ll punch your teeth in. Like I did just a few weeks ago,” Abhi warned, grinding his teeth together and hands balled up into fists. Karan furrowed his brows and pretended to be thinking and then come to sudden realisation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” he started. “You mean the same day you confessed your undying love for Vikrant, a boy.” A flare of anger was evident in Abhi’s eyes. The gasps echoed through the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up” Abhi ordered through gritted teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Too scared to tell your friends that you’re anything but straight?” Karan spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan stop,” Vikrant commanded but Karan ignored him, he could feel the anxiousness in all four of his friends as he and Abhi stared threateningly at each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meethe ho na tum? Bol do. Just admit it Abhi!” (You’re sweet {meetha/meethe-derogatory term for gay people} aren’t you? Say it. Just admit it Abhi!) Karan probed, pushing Abhi over the edge. Abhi threw the first punch, but of course no teacher would see that. Karan fell to the ground but the smirk remained on his face. Angad, Rohan and Vikrant were too shocked to help, but Sunaina, the fierce fighter that she is, attempted to intervene only to be pushed back by a teacher, luckily for her it seemed like she was trying to break the fight rather than contribute. Abhi and Karan were interviewed separately by the teacher that had caught them, Janaki ma’am. She was strict and uptight, she favoured the sporty kids due to her nauseating and very very obvious crush on the PT teacher, there was no doubt that she would side with Abhi. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He made his way to his own room and to his hrrible luck Vikrant was standing outside, waiting for him. Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against the wall, he led Karan into an empty room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is wrong with you?” he questioned, stressing the word “wrong”. Karan stared at the ground in shame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan, he has the picture, you know that!” Karan tried to apologise but Vikrant would not give him the chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s cruel and vile, everyone knows that! Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut for once! If that picture is spread the-” Vikrant got cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Vikrant! I’m scared too but I couldn’t stand to hear those things being said about Naina,” Karan interjected, tired and not wanting to fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We heard it too! But we controlled ourselves. He was trying to get a reaction out of us. He’s an ass Karan, he’ll do anything to get his way,” Vikrant explained, huffing in frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t think to ever give him a taste of his own medicine? I didn’t think okay? All of it made me very angry and sometimes I can’t control it. I’m sorry,” Karan apologised, trying to put an end to this fight, his eyes were already clouded with tears. Vikrant shook his head, disappointedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No Karan, you don’t get it. You don’t know my life past those gates, if my family finds out then I’m done for. Daddy dearest won’t do anything to you, a slap on the wrist is what you’ll get at most. I just, I expected better from you Karan,” the words tugged at Karan’s heart but what came next out of Vikrant’s mouth was something he did not expect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. You’re on your own now Singhania,” Vikrant pushed past Karan and left, leaving him to process it all. Karan could hear his own heart shatter and the millions of pieces falling to the ground, never to be truly picked up. Karan didn’t sleep that night, he couldn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the morning the news and the photo had been spread all throughout the school, Karan was cornered when he was moving from his first class to his second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you that I’d ruin you didn’t I?” Abhi reminded him before turning away with his followers close behind. Karan picked his belongings off the ground and left for his class. He paid no attention to the taunts, sniggers and remarks from other students. At break time he sat in the library and watched out the window, he watched his friends at the usual spot, laughing and carrying on as if nothing had happened, Karan knew his presence would bring the awkward tension back so he continued to avoid them and he was glad Vikrant had them to protect him and stand by his side. He watched as Abhi and his posy walked by them, very clearly harassing them, he watched as Rohan and Sunaina rushed up to physically fight them but Angad simply used the magic of his words to shoo them away. He stayed cooped up in the library after classes had finished, skipping dinner as he did lunch and breakfast too and very reluctantly made his way back to his dorm. He rolled his eyes as his dorm mates wolf whistled as he walked in, quickly he was shoved back into the door as he closed it, he soon realised there were four other people in the room, he only had two roommates. This game was rigged, he was outnumbered four to one. He struggled and thrashed around as much as he could as they pinned him down and forced a spiked drink down his throat, he didn’t remember what had happened. He was conscious but could not decipher any movement or anything around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up to a loud alarm, with a headache, he looked down to see that he was fully clothed but there was a foul taste in his mouth, and his knees and jaw ached and were definitely bruised. He didn’t want to think of what happened though he had a vague idea, he looked into the mirror to see that his lips were swollen and the boys had gifted him with a black eye.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>That afternoon he and Vikrant were summoned to the principal’s office. They sat outside his office in cushioned chairs, their anxiety hitting a new peak as Abhi exited the room. Vikrant sat far from Karan with his head turned away. As they stood in front of the principal, the picture was placed on the table. The principal ran a hand over the folds of her cream saree, the ones that were pinned to her shoulder, she sighed deeply before speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know neither of you will tell me the story if I ask you to explain, though it seems self-explanatory.” She leaned forward and folded her hands together atop the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the first time anything like this has ever happened at this school,” her smile was somewhat genuine, not a trace of mockery. She relaxed slightly before leaning back again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This,” she said pointing to the picture, “I’m sure you know that it’s considered illegal, but the school board does not want us to be involved in any more legal issues. Action will not be taken unless either of you or your families would want to,” Both the boys shook their heads to signal that they too did not want any legal action to be taken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Lal, you’re very close to graduating so all we’ve done is sent a warning under indecent behaviour. Don’t worry you will graduate. You can go but keep in mind to be careful next time,” she let him go with a small smile. Karan watched Vikrant leave, Vikrant had not even looked at Karan once. Vikrant let out a sigh as he walked back to his class, relieved that he would not have to explain anything to his family, he began to formulate a lie to feed them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, in the principal’s office, the principal had motioned Karan to take a seat, he did very reluctantly. She offered him chocolate and Karan knew instantly that something was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Singhania,” she started with a sigh. “Your father called, unfortunately I was not in the office at the time, I was at a meeting so I couldn’t handle the situation. It was very wrongly and grossly transferred to Janaki ma’am instead of a deputy.” Karan closed his eyes for a second and slumped forward unsure of how to react. The principal reached out for the tissues and offered him one, he accepted it gratefully. She waited a moment before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now I’m not meant to say this but that Janaki ma’am can be a little bit of a priss,” Karan let out a watery chuckle at that statement. Her smile grew at his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She told him everything. He has informed us that he’ll be coming to see you, he told us not to tell you but I think you ought to be warned.” She spoke softly, her stern façade faltered a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you ma’am,” Karan sniffled. He wasn't crying but he was close to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan if this causes a problem or raises any concerns in your household then I need you to inform me, just me, no one else,” his eyebrows furrowed at her offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry ma’am but, if you don't mind me asking, why?” he asked, gulping down a cry. She checked that the door was closed from her seat before smiling softly at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The school isn’t obliged to help students in their private life but I truly care for my students and your safety is very important to me. Karan this is again something I shouldn’t be telling you but there’s a reason I’m unmarried, have confidence and strength. It will be fine.” She whispered very carefully to him and offered him chocolate another time before letting him go. He walked anxiously back to his classes, though his principal’s words helped a little he couldn’t help but be nervous to see his father. Karan was truly unsure of how he would react. The boys around him taking every opportunity to grope and harass him wasn’t helping his case, he tried to ignore it, he really did but he felt their hands linger even after they’d let go. He felt disgusted by himself. He would take out the anger on himself, using the blades of his pencil sharpeners to paint his thighs red.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Karan pretended to be shocked as he stood in front of his dad, he tried to make conversation and divert his attention but Rajnath was having none of it, he got straight to the point. It was break time, all the students were outside, Karan was standing with his father in an empty corridor, a few feet away from the foyer where they had just met. They spoke in hushed tones and Rajnaths’s voice emitted anger. Karan was disappointed by his father’s reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will be continuing the rest of your education in Delhi, you’re old enough to look after yourself now. I send you here to study Karan, so you can grow and be your own man and this is what you’re doing?” Rajnath shook his head, scoffing with a bitter laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Papa It’s not what you think,” he tried reasoning but it led nowhere. “I’m sorry Papa, it won’t happen again,” Karan promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It better not happen again!” he huffed angrily. “This is not how your mother and I raised you! She would be so disappointed,” he added. Karan lowered his head, his father was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mumma believed in love,” he mumbled, it was barely audible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Rajnath had heard him, this was his anger. Karan had genuinely thought his father had not heard so he innocently began to repeat himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said mumma believed in lo-” Karan was met with a stinging sensation on his cheek before he could complete his sentence. His father, who had never even raised his voice at him, just slapped him. This one slap hurt more than any kick or punch from any other person. Rajnath himself was shocked at his own reaction, he had a hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes were filled with regret. His anger was unreasonable and he’d understood that a little too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan, I-I’m sorry I didn’t mea-” Rajnath struggled to form words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine dad,” Karan replied, shifting away from his father’s outstretched hand. Rajnath was just about to say something as the sound of throat clearing was heard, coming from the other end of the corridor. It was Sunaina holding a tray of food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Shit! I hope she wasn’t here too long,’ Karan thought, he didn’t want his dad to be painted in a bad light when this was the first time he’d ever been slapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry” she started, her bubbly, infectious smile still plastered on her face. “I hope I’m not disturbing!” she walked further towards them and put the tray down on a nearby bench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all!” Rajnath explained, greeting her with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Sunaina, you must be Karan’s papa,” she introduced herself. Rajnath nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He talks so much about his parents.” she states.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good things I hope,” Rajnath humors her as Karan just stares at the floor, shifting awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After talking a little with Rajnath she turns to Karan and nudges him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve not seen you at meals today or yesterday so I got you some food,” she said, voice softening as she looked at his sullen posture. Rajnath cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karan where are your manners?” he questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Thank you Sunaina,” Karan replied nonchalantly. Sunaina and Rajnath just sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a pleasure meeting you Mr.Singhania and I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll go now. Bye.” She waved goodbye and left, they were silent till she was out of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go Dad, you’ll be late for your flight,” Karan didn’t look up at his dad, not even when Rajnath had hugged him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apni padhai par dhyan dehna aur apna khayal rakhna,” (Focus on your studies and take care of yourself,) Rajnath whispered into the hug. Karan nodded and watched his father’s shoes turn and walk away. He ignored the tray of food and went straight to his dorm room. He collapsed onto the bed and sobbed into the pillow. He wanted to be with his mother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the last day of school Karan watched his friends walk across the stage and be applauded for completing their years at this school. He must’ve applauded the most. Sure he’d avoided them as much as he could even if it meant dealing with gross and homophobic teenage boys but he was proud of them. They had been through so much shit and they deserve to get out of here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vikrant had still not looked at him, not even when he’d gone to congratulate them. As Karan crept away to the gates to leave this life behind, he turned around to take one last look at Vikrant. Karan knew that Vikrant knew that Karan was staring right at him, but he dared not turn and meet eyes. It was ironic, the poet was making the lovers’ choice and the lover was making the poets’.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan and Vikrant sat across each other at the dining table of the suite. Vikrant had managed to convince him to stay for breakfast at least. They reminisce some more as they munched on muffins, fruit and chocolate chip pancakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember Rohan’s weird mythology? How did he remember those stories?” Vikrant asked, Karan nodded laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, there were some good stories like the Orpheus and Eurydice myth, that was beautiful!” Karan exclaimed. It was a truly beautiful myth. Orpheus, a musician marries Eurydice, a beautiful woman and when she dies because of a snakebite, Orpheus ventures to the land of the dead in an attempt to bring Eurydice back to life. Hades, the king of the underworld was so moved by his music and grief  that he allowed him to take Eurydice back to the world of life under one condition, as they escape Orpheus defies that condition by turning back to steal a glimpse of her and dooms them. This elicited a friendly debate in the group. Rohan argued that Orpheus had made the better choice, the poet's choice to look back and cherish the good memories they had already built while Sunaina argued that Orpheus was stupid and should’ve made the lover’s choice to not look back. The debate nerve resolved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I better get going, I’ll be late to the sit-in” Karan said, standing up from his spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Vikrant stopped him. “I have something to share,” he left to rummage through his bags and returned with two coins. Karan looked at him skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is a wishing fountain in front of the lift, on this floor. These are special wishing coins. Make a wish with me Karan?” Karan couldn’t say no to those hopeful eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ofcourse,” he obliged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They left the room unlocked, luckily the floor was practically empty as all the tourists had already left early in the morning. They stood in front of the wishing fountain, opening their eyes as they’d finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karan would admit that this was the first time he had felt peace and love in parting. His skin still tingled from the embrace the night before and the soft touches to the hand this morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you wish for?” Vikrant asked, leaning over to whisper in Karan’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wished that hamare agle janam mein tum ladki ban kar aaoge so that no one will oppose us,” (I wished that in our next life you will be born as a girl so that no one will oppose us) he revealed, blushing with a soft chuckle. Vikrant chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Karan asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wished that agle janam mein hum jaise bhi hain, jo bhi hain hum ek dusre ko dhoond lenge aur humara rishta sab ko teekh lagega,” (I wished that in our next life however we are, whatever we are, we find each other and our relationship will seem right to everyone,) Vikrant revealed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go,” Karan says, hearing the elevator ding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toh agle janam mein mile?” (So let’s meet in our next life?) Karan asked. Vikrant nodded. They both knew, somehow, somewhere they were meant to be. As they say, right person, wrong time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vikrant smiled and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agala janam.” (Next life.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is proof that I do not know how the indian school system works.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>